Page 105 of Wild Thing

It’s been onlyfive or six hours since we went to bed, but it’s dawn, and I lay in bed wide awake.

Kat is making this cute breathing sound. Her arm is over my chest, her leg over my hips, her thigh pressing against my erection. Nothing tops this, the feeling of her wrapped around me.

Since when has cuddling become better than sex?

Old age, that’s what’s up.

Last night was perfect. That moment in the tub when we held each other was the sweetest I’ve ever had with anyone.

Sweet.

Am I getting soft in the heart? Yeah. Fuck it. I’ll be cheesy for her if it makes her happy.

Shewashappy. Her eyelids were drooping when I got her out of the tub, a vague smile on her face, her hair a beautiful mess with curls dropping onto her face. Can anyone be this fucking hot after almost drowning, then taking it in all her holes?

This woman—I swear—will outlive me. Especially if I keep fucking her like a maniac.

My wild thing was beautiful last night. Cum-buzzed and barely standing when I dried her off with a towel. She didn’t say a word, only played with my hair when I did so, and buried her face in my chest when I carried her to bed.

“You need to sleep,” I murmured, covering us with a sheet and hugging her tight against me, her leg immediately going over my hips like she wanted to lock me in place.

I closed my eyes and remembered the words that slipped out of her mouth.

Two little words, barely audible.

Love you.

Just a whisper, but that’s all I needed to hear.

And now I am wide awake. It’s dawn, but I won’t be able to sleep anymore, those words still flickering in my head and making a home there.

Finally, I attempt to move away, but Kat murmurs something incoherent as she latches onto me tighter.

This—morning, silence, waves lapping at the hull, seagulls outside the window, this carelessness of existence—almost seems like before the Change. And she is the cause of it.

Carefully, I lift her arm off me.

“I’ll be right back,” I say softly and watch her, splayed face down on the bed, for another moment before I walk out.

The ocean is so calm that it’s unbelievable that last night it was stormy and almost killed Kat. But that’s my wild thing. She is the female Poseidon, creating all kinds of havoc.

The warm breeze feels good against my skin as I scan the ocean. There—the little ripples in the distance and the darker shapes popping here and there above the water—used to be my mom’s favorite sight on vacation. Whales.

I hurry back to the bedroom. Kat is cocooned into the sheet, her face barely visible, her hair a giant mess splayed on the pillow.

“Kat.” I shake her. She murmurs and shifts away, but I pull her toward me. “Kat, come on. Wanna show you something.”

Her sleepy squinting eyes are almost murderous, the frown so cute that I laugh when she finally sits up on the bed like a ninja.

“It better be a miracle,” she grunts as I help her off the bed and nudge her out the door.

And I follow.

My dick follows.

My body follows.

My mind.

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